


We're A Pack

by literaryoblivion



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [50]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drunk Derek, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Feels, Human Derek Hale, Loss of Powers, M/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is just about to call his dad to send out a search party when Derek finally texts him back. It’s very misspelled, which is rather unusual for Derek who feels he has to do proper capitalization and punctuation on every message he writes. Which must mean…</p><p>"Shit, Derek, are you drunk?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	We're A Pack

**Author's Note:**

> I received the following prompt on Tumblr: "stiles takes human!derek under his wing and comforts him until the pack can figure out how to fix it. he gets derek drunk one night (because, duh) and derek talks about how hard he tried to keep stiles & scott at a distance and why but, somehow they worked his way under his skin and now they feel like pack and they're both his anchor and feeeeeeeeeeels. either straight up sterek romancin' or just some pre-slash bonding would be happily accepted"
> 
> I'd already written a Stiles taking care of a suddenly human!Derek, so let’s just pretend that’s already happened and Stiles is good at taking care of Derek except Derek is feeling depressed and decides to get drunk on his own because he can, and Stiles finds him.
> 
> The tumblr post for this can be found [here](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/post/94643425178/prompt-request-stiles-takes-human-derek-under-his-wing).

Stiles is just about to call his dad to send out a search party when Derek finally texts him back. It’s very misspelled, which is rather unusual for Derek who feels he has to do proper capitalization and punctuation on every message he writes. Which must mean…

"Shit, Derek, are you drunk?" Stiles asks as soon as Derek answers the phone.

"Maaaaaayyyybeeeee," he slurs.

Stiles groans. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”

"I’m fineeee."

"Derek, you better tell me where the hell you are right now."

Derek giggles and then hiccups. “I don’t… I can get home myself.”

“ _Derek._ " Stiles is firm and trying to reign in his anger because of course Derek would go get wasted alone now that he was human and vulnerable and unable to fucking protect himself.

Derek must recognize something in Stiles’s tone of voice because he sighs and says, “I’m outside the bar on the corner of Hilcrest and 6th.”

"Good. Stay right there. I’ll be there in ten minutes."

Stiles makes it there in eight because he knows what roads to avoid that have speed traps, and he maybe runs a couple stop signs because no one’s around since it’s so late. He’ll do some volunteer work or something as penance.

When he gets there, Derek is sitting on the curb, slumped over and leaning against the street sign. Stiles pulls up and gets out of his jeep. The street is empty, and seeing as it’s a weeknight, the bar is already closed for the evening. The closest streetlight to them illuminates Derek’s back, his face in shadow, and he looks so small. Stiles has always seen him as a kind of intimidating force, but to see him hunched over and vulnerable is so strikingly different that it breaks his heart a little.

"Here," he says, plopping down on the sidewalk next to Derek and holding out a water bottle for him. Derek looks over to Stiles and accepts the bottle with a tiny half-smile.

He watches as Derek takes a few gulps of the water. He wants to say something, get mad at Derek for doing something so stupid when he’s so vulnerable, but he doesn’t think Derek would appreciate him pointing it out. He doesn’t want to make Derek feel any worse than he probably does. Why else would he go get drunk?

"So," Stiles finally says once Derek’s almost done with the bottle of water.

"Thanks," Derek says, holding up the nearly empty bottle. He drinks the last of it and then screws the cap back on. Stiles nods. "I’m… sorry," Derek says as he stares at the ground.

"What for?"

"For this… for disappearing… for… everything."

Derek’s eyes are still glazed over, like the water and fresh air has helped but he’s still not completely coherent. Stiles is afraid to ask how much he actually drank, how long he was at the bar before the bartender finally kicked him out and shut down. And Derek looks so upset, like he’s apologizing for every bad thing that’s happened ever in the entire world, and Stiles’s heart breaks that much more.

"Hey," Stiles says, placing a tentative hand on Derek’s shoulder to get him to look at him. "You don’t need to apologize. It’s not your fault, none of this is your fault, Derek.  _None_  of it. Don’t you realize that?”

Derek shrugs and looks away from him, his head tilted up.

"Fine. If you want to take the blame, you can take the blame for scaring me half to death because I didn’t know where you were. That  _is_  your fault.”

Derek frowns and nods like he’ll accept that at least.

"I was worried about you. I thought…" Stiles’s voice breaks because for a brief moment he thought he had been too late. That whatever plan they had thought up had been for naught because Derek was already dead. He was gone, and Stiles couldn’t stop it. He clears his throat. "I thought something had happened. Something bad."

He doesn’t realize that tears are flowing down his cheeks until Derek reaches up and brushes them away with his thumb.

"I’m sorry, Stiles. I thought… I thought it would be better if I was alone, if I left and handle things on my own."

Stiles punches him in the arm. Not hard, but enough that without his werewolf strength, Derek definitely felt it.

"How could you think that? Stop playing the self-sacrificing martyr, dude. I’m tired of it. It’s never better alone, you should know that by now. We’re a pack. You need us. We need you." And ever so quietly, Stiles whispers, "I need you."

Derek hears it though, werewolf hearing or not, and pulls Stiles into his chest for a hug. He wraps his arms around him and sighs.

"You’re right. I’m sorry. I was so used to being alone and on my own for so long… and I didn’t want to accept it, but… we are a pack, huh?"

Stiles nods against his chest, and Derek rubs a hand up and down his back. They sit like that for a while, cuddling close, wrapped in each other’s arms, as they sit on the curb, a cool breeze blowing by them. It’s late, and they are both tired, Derek even more so after all the alcohol and the lack of strength.

"Come on," Stiles says, leaning back and standing up. He holds out his hand for Derek, who take sit to help himself up. "Let’s go home."

Derek doesn’t comment on what Stiles means, which home he’s referring to, and when they end up at Stiles’s house, he’s too tired and out of it to protest. He’s also too tired to deny the sweats and T-shirt Stiles holds out for him, or to tell Stiles no when he pulls him over to his bed and holds up the covers for Derek to scoot in next to him.

He’s too tired to question why it feels right, why he likes being close to Stiles, why he pulls Stiles in against him and throws an arm around his waist and nuzzles the back of Stiles’s neck with his nose.

And he’s too tired to remember whispering “I need you, too” against Stiles’s skin before they both fall asleep.


End file.
